Night Lamp
Page 42
“I am not so inclined.”
“I see.” Skirl reflected a moment. “Nevertheless, you are hungry and you should eat. The pasties are very good and so are these pepper puffs!”
Garlet glanced at the platters and shook his head.
Skirl almost pleaded with him. “Why not? All the rest of us are eating!”
Garlet’s eyes seemed to narrow. “Is it not clear? If I eat, I make myself part of the cabal.”
With an effort Skirl choked back an incredulous laugh. “Garlet, be serious! What you say is absurd! I am eating and I have joined no cabal. Far from it! I am Skirl Hutsenreiter, and a Clam Muffin; I am nothing else.”
Garlet was unmoved. He twisted the wine goblet between his fingers, watching the swim of golden shades and lights in the liquid.
Skirl opened her mouth, then closed it again. Garlet was impervious.
Maihac spoke gently, as if musing: “You are intelligent, Garlet, and you want to make the most of your life. Am I right?”
“My plans are not firm.”
Maihac, taken aback, said, “Listen carefully, Garlet. The sudden transition in your life has caused you psychological shock. At the moment you are not in control of yourself; like Jaro, you have a strong mind. Still, the puzzles and uncertainties are too much for you.”
Garlet watched Maihac stonily, but said nothing.
Maihac went on. “At the moment you don’t know how to deal with your surroundings, so you have retreated into total caution, which is sensible. But you must relax and trust us; we are your family; this is your grandfather’s home. You must live passively: watching, talking, listening, absorbing the feel of the environment. We will help you learn useful habits and before long they will become familiar. Do you understand what I am telling you?”
Garlet continued to twirl the goblet. In an offhand voice he said, “Of course.”
Maihac went on somberly. “It is an uncomfortable position for all of us, and there is no predicting how things will go. Still, if you do as I suggest, you will avoid much distress. And soon you will feel happy with yourself and the world.”
Garlet twisted the goblet so rapidly that the wine spilled out upon the table. Skirl cried out, “Garlet! That is not proper etiquette! You are soiling the tablecloth!”
Garlet said, “I was trying to swirl the wine up to the very lip of the goblet without spilling it.”
“Regardless of that, it’s not polite to play games at the dinner table; at least, that is how I was taught. I will teach you the same things, if you will permit me.”
“Whatever you like.” Garlet spoke, raising his eyes and looking across the table to Maihac, “I know nothing of psychological shock. I think of one item at a time and fit it into the frame. I am careful to think only my own thoughts, since there are no others which will fit into my plans.”
Maihac smiled a rather perplexed smile. “You want no advice and no interference: is that what you are telling me?”
Garlet reached to swirl his goblet, but Skirl moved it aside.
Maihac said in a dry voice, “Whether you want advice or not, I suspect that you will hear a great deal. You would be foolish to ignore it.”
“I will try to deal properly with advice.”
“First of all, you should not starve yourself for irrational reasons.”
“You are right in one respect, at least,” said Garlet. “I must transcend shadow-play, and I will need all my strength.” He reached out to a bowl of fruit, selected and ate a grape. “That is enough for now.”
Without ceremony, Garlet rose to his feet and left the room. Skirl made an uncertain movement, as if to run after him, but Jaro was first and Skirl settled slowly back into her chair.
Jaro found Garlet on the terrace. He stood leaning on the balustrade, looking over the garden, silver and black in the light of the two moons. Jaro went to join him. Garlet paid him no heed.
Minutes passed. As Jaro leaned on the balustrade, enjoying the scented night, he could feel a building of tension in Garlet.
Garlet’s patience at last snapped. He glanced sidewise at Jaro, his mouth compressed into an angry line. He demanded, “Why are you here? I came to be alone!”
“It’s not safe to wander alone through the dark.”
“Hmmf. Is that why you followed me from the table?”
“Partly. Why do you want to be alone?”
Garlet spoke in a surly mutter. “The drone of advice hurts my head. Everyone stares at me from round foolish eyes. I do not like the flavor of their thoughts.”
In the light of the moons Jaro studied Garlet’s face. He asked, “How do you know what they were thinking?”
Garlet shrugged. “Sometimes I know. I could look out from the dark, into your mind. I felt how you lived your life. I called to you; I told you of my despair. You refused to listen and held me away, so that I would not disturb your pleasure.”
Jaro clenched his hands upon the cold marble balustrade. “That was not the way of it. As soon as I could, I set out to find you.”
Garlet made a scornful sound. “You did nothing.”
Jaro tried to speak, but the dull voice went on. “I am up from the dark, and nothing is the same. The yahas that gave me wisdom are gone; they may never return. What remains? A trifle. Faintly, faintly, I read the coming and going of thoughts. Tonight I looked into faces and I saw morbid glee, so I left.”
“You are wrong,” said Jaro. “What you saw was sympathy. There was no morbid glee.”
Garlet spoke without interest. “Think as you like.”
“Garlet, listen to me! I am not trying to enforce my opinions upon you; I want to help you adapt to a new life. To do so I must correct your mistakes; and you must heed me, because I know best what is proper! Do you agree?”
Garlet spoke without intonation: “I am not sure that you know best, nor that you want to help me. I judge by what has happened in the past. You were lacking before; why should you not lack now?”
“Everything is different. It is too complicated to explain.”
“No matter. I need no help.”
“What of advice?”
“I need no advice.”
Jaro laughed shortly. “You need help and advice—very badly. Reality is pitiless. You will surely come to grief unless you change your attitude.”
Garlet said softly, “I am my own reality, and I too am pitiless. What needs to be done shall be done.”
Jaro looked at Garlet in blank perplexity. Garlet spoke on, in a soft monotone: “Yaha supersedes destiny. I know little and I know much. From where I sat in the dark, I sent myself into your mind. You cared nothing; you betrayed me, and failed to listen, to heed, to feel. You hated me; you enjoyed your freedom while I huddled in the dungeon. I ate husks; you ate good things. Sometimes I thought to see glimpses of what you saw, and I tried to feel what you felt. I called to you; my cries were in vain and you blotted out my voice.” He looked over his shoulder at the sound of footsteps; Skirl approached. “Ah well, we shall see.”
After a few moments Garlet allowed himself to be led to the chamber which had been set aside for his use. Standing beside a table of carved jade, he ate chunks of bread and cheese, then went to the far corner where he crept under a table and slept.
2
Asrubal had been taken to a cell in the basement of the Justiciary, where he was guarded by a platoon of Regulators. Within the week, a formal judgment would be pronounced. Execution of the sentence would follow immediately, so Morlock assured Maihac. The Pharsang remained aloft; on the ground the ship would become vulnerable to the attack of masked Urd Assassinators or any other band of bravos. Additionally, the Pharsang’s radar continually monitored the air-space above Romarth. If Asrubal were liberated from the dungeon and attempted to flee by flitter, he would instantly be detected.
During the week of waiting, Maihac, Skirl and Jaro spent much time with Garlet, trying to ease through the barriers of his suspicion.
Garlet’s moods were proof against
analysis. In order to simplify his own life, he obeyed a few instructions in matters of dress, and behavior, but otherwise isolated himself into his own mind, ignoring conversation and questions, though sometimes putting questions of his own. From the first Garlet indicated that he preferred Skirl’s company to that of either Maihac or Jaro. Maihac’s conversation bored him, and he listened to Jaro with blank indifference.
Skirl tried to teach Garlet the conventions and courtesies of ordinary existence. Garlet listened to her with apparent patience, and dutifully participated in her demonstrations. Sometimes he seemed to be smiling a secret smile, which always disappeared when she looked at him, and she wondered how much of her instruction, if any, had penetrated his mind.
Jaro, meanwhile, attempted to teach Garlet the first principles of reading and enumeration. He explained the function of words, the Gaean grammatical system, and the alphabetical basis of orthography. Garlet listened passively. When Jaro put pencil and paper in front of him, and instructed Garlet to copy the alphabet, Garlet created a few desultory scribbles, then dropped the pencil and sat back in his chair.
Jaro said, “There is no easy way. If you want to learn, you must drill until the skills become automatic.”
“No doubt but that you are right,” said Garlet. “However, I have heard enough for the day.”
“Not really,” said Jaro. “We have accomplished nothing. If you want to learn, I will teach you. If not, I will waste no more time. Which is it to be?”
Garlet considered. “I am not sure that the skill is useful.” He indicated the alphabet which Jaro had inscribed and placed before him. “These symbols, so you tell me, are the relics of deep antiquity, as is most of the material you want me to read. It is a game for pedants with nothing better to do.”
“That is partly true, but not altogether. Reading is often a useful skill. When you decide to learn, let me know and we will resume the lessons.”
One day Skirl told Garlet, “For someone with your background, you speak very well. Did someone teach you?”
Garlet curled his lips. “I taught myself, of course. Old Shim liked to talk, and when he chided me for a misdeed, I could keep him going for hours on end. I also learned from Oleg, who talked to the houseghouls. He used a strange way of talking, as if they were his lovely friends. I remembered everything I heard.”
“But no one ever taught you to read?”
“Naturally not! Why bother? I was to be there forever.”
Skirl shuddered. “This is a frightening place, and I will be very happy to leave.”
Garlet looked at her in frowning displeasure. “You don’t like Romarth?”
“That is a hard question to answer. The palaces are magnificent, beyond any I have seen elsewhere. Perhaps on Old Earth there are places equally grand. As for the Roum—” Skirl paused to analyze her feelings. “I don’t like them very much; in general they seem humorless and vain. I don’t feel easy here. At night I can’t sleep for fear of the houseghouls. In short, I can’t leave Romarth too soon.”
Garlet made an impatient gesture. “This is not well spoken. You must make changes in your thinking.”
“Indeed!” Skirl was both amused and annoyed, as was often the case during her dealings with Garlet. “Why do you say that?”
“The reasons are surely clear. I do not care to leave Romarth, and you must stay as well, since there are things I want you to teach me. I am especially interested in the differences between ‘male’ and ‘female.’ You may show me your body.”
Skirl shook her head. “That is not proper etiquette. You must put such ideas out of your head. In any case, we will not be staying at Romarth. That is definite. You will enjoy visiting other places on other worlds.”
Garlet’s mouth drooped. “Other places are different. I have learned something about this place. It is starting to become real.”
“That’s good news! It means that you are adjusting to your new life.”
“Possibly so. There is something else at work of greater import.”
“Really? What is this ‘else’?”
Garlet deliberated. “I can tell you this: the force I command in the Great Surround is starting to flow back.”
Skirl looked at Garlet in puzzlement. His most inscrutable statements sometimes yielded a peculiar logic, when she troubled to examine them carefully. She said, “You’ve gone past me. What is this force? What is a ‘surround’?”
Garlet groped for words. “In the dungeon, I was acquainted with every item: every square inch, every surface, every knob and fissure. It was the ‘Dark Surround,’ and with the advice of the yahas, I was the master. When I came up here, the ‘Surround’ of the dungeon was left behind, and I was master of nothing. Up here is a new ‘Surround’ of large dimensions. To control this ‘Great Surround’ I need new strength. It is starting to return because I have made such a decision.”
“That is an interesting idea,” said Skirl, and now she violated her own rule against argument. “Unfortunately, Garlet, you are quite wrong! You cannot now or ever control anything, except your own conduct—which is enough. Specifically, you cannot control me, or Jaro or Tawn Maihac. It is best that you understand this. So do not waste time and energy deluding yourself!”
Garlet jumped to his feet. “It is you who are wrong! You feel nothing and you know only what I tell you!” He spoke in sudden decision. “I have heard enough talk for a time. Now I want to walk out and look along the avenues and see what is to be seen.”
Skirl was not sure how to react to Garlet’s sudden burst of willfulness. She said cautiously, “That can be arranged easily enough.”
“We need no arrangements!” declared Garlet. “Let us go now.”
Skirl reluctantly rose to her feet. “So long as we are back for lunch.”
They left the Carleone terrace, walked along the avenue to the bridge and over into Gamboye Plaza. Instead of walking further, Garlet decided that he wished to sit at one of the cafés, that he might watch the passersby. Skirl made no protest and the two went to a table in the shade of a laburnum tree. They were served tea and a platter of crisp pastries. Garlet, however, seemed more interested in the persons strolling across the plaza. After a moment he pointed to a young gallant and a pretty young woman. “I am a bit puzzled,” said Garlet. “Why are they dressed differently?”
“It’s a long-standing custom,” said Skirl. “The reasons are mysterious but you will always find it so, wherever you go.”
“The woman is good to look at,” said Garlet. “She fascinates me with her graceful movements. I would like to touch her. Please attract her attention and signal that she is to approach.”
Skirl laughed. “Garlet, you are absurd! What you have in mind is not polite; the lady would be surprised and annoyed. Do you recall what I said about etiquette? If you wish to be known as a gentleman, you must restrain such impulses.”
Garlet turned Skirl a critical glance. “I like to look at you, as well. There is something definitely appealing about both you and the woman yonder. It is a feeling I cannot define.”
“The feeling is normal,” said Skirl. “It is the procreative instinct, and results in the birth of children.”
“How so?”
Skirl supplied a general non-explicit overview of the reproductive process. “The subject is very large,” she told Garlet. “There are many variations but all are controlled by strict rituals.”
“I know nothing about these rituals,” Garlet grumbled. “Shim never mentioned them.”
“I don’t expect that he would have. The process usually starts when a man and a woman feel an attraction for each other; this is called ‘affection,’ or sometimes ‘love.’ When these emotions are present, the man and the woman may unite in a social contract called ‘marriage,’ or perhaps they may join in a less formal union. This is the case with Jaro and me. Under such conditions, society allows them to use their sexual apparatus in a process called ‘copulation.’ This is not a dignified act and is done in pri
vate.”
Garlet leaned forward, eyes gleaming. “Describe this ‘copulation’ in detail! How is it done?”
Skirl sat up stiffly in her chair and looked off across the plaza. Speaking with care, she briefly outlined the copulative process, using broad and impersonal terms. Garlet made no effort to disguise his interest, and his eyes never left Skirl’s face. “That,” said Skirl, “is the ordinary system of reproduction, for many living creatures.”
“The activity sounds interesting,” said Garlet. “Let us try it out now. Here seems to be as good a place as any.”
“Wrong!” declared Skirl with fervor. “The act is attempted only in privacy!”
“Then we shall return to the palace; we will be alone in my chamber. If necessary, we can call in Fancho to help us.”
Skirl shook her head. “The activity is subject to the rules of convention. Jaro would be annoyed to learn that I had been copulating at random, even under Fancho’s supervision.”
Garlet stared at her. “I care not at all for Jaro or his preferences. They mean nothing! You may put them aside and we will attempt these interesting acts at once.”
Skirl, torn between amusement, irritation, and pity, tried to hold her voice even. “It is not all so easy. Jaro and I are joined by a bond, which is equivalent to marriage. The conventions are strict.”
Garlet threw himself back in his chair. “As always,” he muttered. “Jaro is the obstacle.”
“It is time we were returning to Carleone for lunch,” said Skirl. She rose to her feet.
“I want no lunch. I will remain here.”
“Suit yourself. You know the way back.”
Skirl set off across Gamboye Plaza. Garlet glowered after her, then changed his mind and ran to join her. The two returned to Carleone in silence.
3
After lunch Garlet took Jaro out on the terrace. For half an hour they stood by the balustrade engrossed in earnest conversation. Jaro finally threw his arms into the air, indicating defeat and frustration. He returned into the refectory, leaving Garlet to stare moodily across the garden.